Low Country Law
Page 18
"Ain’t seen nobody come down the road in a long time."
"Matter of fact, I haven’t seen anyone around here at all since that scoundrel Daryl stopped sporting ‘round with my daughter."
"Well, I am sorry to hear they broke up."
Caley bid Ms. Hattie so long and decided to continue to the next house to ask the same questions regarding the murders.
Chapter 56
Over the next week, Caley and Sweet took DNA samples from four or five other people who had connections to the case. Sweet supported the endeavor, but he was convinced that Wilson been involved and was anxious for Caley to start acting accordingly.
Finally, Sweet said to Caley, "Well we have been avoiding getting a sample from one critical person. Sheriff Wilson."
"Yea we need to bite the bullet and get it over with. Maybe a DNA sample will rule him out. That would be very nice. I’ll call him and get him in here."
On the telephone, Caley told Wilson she wanted to give him the latest update on the case, hoping he would not ask any more questions. He didn’t, but neither did he come into the office that day or the next. She and Sweet were beginning to wonder if they might have to go out and get him.
Finally, on the third day, he came in. When Caley saw Wilson, she was surprised at his appearance. Of course, he no longer wore his sheriff’s hat, and the hair on the sides of his partially baldhead was disheveled. He was dressed in a wrinkled plaid shirt. His normally clean-shaven face appeared not to have been touched for at least a week. Wilson’s movement was slow, and he was dropping his head.
One look and Caley knew he was very depressed. He had shared the information about his occasional depressive bouts with Caley some time ago. Having been around him while in such a condition, she could tell immediately when he was in bad shape mentally.
Caley had always felt bad about his mental situation but was unable to help him much, other than doing her best to avoid putting more pressure on him. Since these fits of behavior happened infrequently, it wasn’t a problem for her before. Now she had no choice but to treat him like anyone else. She kept telling herself not to let her friendship get in the way of doing her job.
What she didn’t know was that Jim Avant had reappeared in Wilson’s mind since he lost the election. He was unable to get away from the illusions of his childhood conflict with his childhood enemy. Avant’s image of teasing and goading was clearly visible in his mind. Over and over the aura was there and it wouldn’t stop.
"Ha, ha, ha, Thady Fatty, I told you I’d get you one day. Now you gonna suffer, till I decide to let you go, and it ain’t gonna be anytime soon. We gonna go to prison together. You… and me! You can’t get rid of me no matter how hard you try, shit head. Who you gonna run to now, Mrs. Robinson? Sorry, Bud, she’s dead, and you may follow her soon. You don’t look so good old Buddy. Member when you hit me with that stick? Well, I don’t forget easy. Gonna cut that little pecker of yours off and your balls with it. How bot see if you can hit me again you little runt. Or should I call you little cunt? I got Skip Hanford on my side now, and he gonna help me put you away for a long time. Skip and I are your worst enemies. You little prick!"
As Wilson sat down across the desk, he started talking right away by saying, "Caley, I know you are taking DNA samples from everyone involved in the case of Homer and Henry, but you know it’s useless to get one from me."
"Yes Sheriff, we found DNA from an unknown person on the dead body of one of the victims. As I told you before Harley Kettle said you were involved with the situation. We need your DNA so we can help show that Harley was lying."
Sweet had been observing the sheriff’s condition, and he wasn’t astonished at his reaction. He was convinced that it was all a diversionary tactic.
"I don’t know why you keep bothering me about those murders," retorted Wilson.
"Well, sheriff you know the procedure. You served as the sheriff for a long time, and surely you can understand that we need to clear up the small details."
"I certainly can, but I also believe having served as long as I have, should give me some privileges and trust of not taking a DNA test. Don’t you agree?"
"No sheriff, I don’t agree. We need that sample to rule you out as a suspect. Surely you don’t think we can ignore Kettle’s accusation that you hired him to plant a gun under Jim Avant’s house do you?"
Caley decided to put the DNA test issue aside for the time being and question Wilson on some other matters that had been on her mind for a while.
"OK Sheriff, tell me again exactly what your relation with Kettle was. When did you last see him and what did you discuss?"
Wilson said he had not seen Kettle for years before he accidentally ran into him at one of the election rallies. Wilson continued to evade the questions of both Caley and Sweet for several hours. Both knew he was lying about several issues and several times, he told different stories when asked the same questions. It was obvious Wilson was getting tired, as his physical movements were getting slower and slower and his answers and conversation was beginning to ramble.
With any other suspect, Caley would have considered it to be the critical time in the interrogation process to really put the pressure on. Instead of feeling they were making progress, she still felt sorry for Wilson.
Then Sweet went back to the DNA sample, which they had not obtained yet. "OK Sheriff, we have spent enough time talking. Now it’s time for you to give us a DNA sample. Plain and simple! If you don’t, you will force us to proceed to the next step, which as you know will be to get a court order to take the sample.
He still did not agree to give the DNA sample. Instead, he put his head down on his arms on the desk in front of Caley and Sweet and started sobbing like a baby.
In his most depressed mental state in many years, Wilson said in a very sad voice, "Oh my god, what will I do. I knew it was wrong immediately after I did it. But it wasn’t my fault it was Jim Avant’s."
"He’s been hounding me day after day since we were in high school. He beat up on me when we were kids. I never forgave him, and I still hate the son-of-bitch. He’s a monster. I tried to get him off of my mind but couldn’t."
Caley didn’t know if the sheriff was trying to elude the issue, or if he was having elucidations about Avant. She suspected the latter.
Picking up his head he said, "Harley Kettle wasn’t lying. I did what he said. I hired him to plant the gun I used to kill both Homer and Henry with. It was as simple as that. I’ve known for a long time they had an operation behind Nel’s Place. I waited two nights for them to show up and finally they did. "Bam, bam," he jerked the fore figure of his right hand mimicking a pistol to emphasize the violent action. Avant was right there with me when I did it."
"You mean Avant was in the woods with you, or just a figment of your imagination," Caley calmly responded.
"No, he wasn’t there, except in my mind haunting me just like he always does. I had to do it, to get rid of him."
Caley and Sweet were taken off guard when Wilson so bluntly admitted the crime. Caley knew right away, the former sheriff was not in his right mind. While there was a lot, yet to be learned other than his simple confession. Still, she wanted to give him every benefit of the doubt.
"Sheriff, don’t you think you should hold up now until you get a lawyer?"
"No I done it, I was wrong, and now I am willing to take my medicine."
"Well non-the-less I need to read you your rights," and she continued to slowly and methodically read word for word his official civil rights privileges.
"Now sheriff tell us what you mean about Jim Avant hounding you."
"No, I don’t mean he was actually trying to get me to do it. He was just in my head, agitating me about it. Then I finally agreed when I realized the headlines might help me win the election. I also thought it would help clear my mind so he wouldn’t be bothering me anymore," he despondently sobbed with tears rolling down each cheek.
"I hired Harley Kettle to plant the pis
tol beneath Avant’s house. I knew you would find it. Harley and I planned the thing several times, and he knew exactly what was going on and how to place the pistol where it could be found I thought that would quickly lead to the arrest of Jim Avant."
Wilson confessed every detail of the situation as Caley and Sweet listened without interruption. He even included the part where he had spit tobacco juice in dead faces of Homer and Henry, as the last symbol of disregard for them.
"Sheriff, did you also kill Harley Kettle?"
"Well, it don’t do any good to deny it now. Yes, I did. The bastard wanted me to pay him more money, or he was going to let the world know he had planted the gun. What else could I do? Yes, I killed him too."
Wilson continued to give many details of all three murders. Caley asked several more questions and was satisfied with the explanations.
After several hours, Caley told Wilson she had been recording his conversation. Wilson knew there were video and audio recordings to routinely tape suspects in questioning. Ironically, he was responsible for recently installing the very system that had recorded every word and nuance of his confession.
Then Caley felt that she had heard enough. She also felt that in her many years of devotion, to a man she respected, even in times when he acted like an amateur, it would only be fitting for her to perform his arrest herself.
"Thank you for clearing things up Sheriff, but we still have one thing to do. We still need to get your DNA sample," said Sweet.
The Sheriff only said, "OK."
Sweet swabbed the inside of his cheeks and placed the swab into the plastic container.
Then Caley said in a low voice uncharacteristic of a normal arrest, "Sheriff you are under arrest for the murder of Homer Aiken, Henry Padgett, and Haley Kettle."
Caley took Wilson toward an empty cell. She passed outside the cell door for a few seconds just watching the despondent sheriff.
Somehow, she couldn’t get rid of the feeling she had betrayed her old boss. Caley, herself was beginning to get depressed at the events of the past several hours of questioning Wilson.
Looking through the bars, she said, "If there is anything I can do for you Sheriff that will not impinge on my official duties please let me know."
"Yes, will you please talk to my wife and tell her what is going on. Tell her everything. You are the only person who has the compassion to do it in a decent way."
"I’d be happy to Sheriff."
Then Caley went to the restroom and sat on the commode in a private stall. She placed her head in her hands, closed her eyes and let her mind wander. The events of the past few hours had taken an emotional toll on her. With tears running down both cheeks, she reflected on the predicament in which she had just but her old boss and breathed in and out to relax her body and thoughts. Having been part of his organization for years, she would have never suspected this man of such a heinous crime. He had many human weaknesses, but murder…she still didn’t want to believe it. Her mind was mostly on Wilson… but then her thoughts shifted to the families of the two murdered men.
This is the reason me and other law enforcement people like me are in the business, she pondered. We must identify the wrongdoers and present the evidence. The final judgment is not up to me, it’s up to a judge and jury. That’s the way it should be. I need to accept it.
Having composed herself somewhat, she got up and went to the sink, washed her face and left the restroom. She didn’t feel any better about her performance, but under the circumstances, as she rationalized it she had done the right thing.
Chapter 57
Patrick had already made sure the iceboxes were filled to the top with beer and drinks in anticipation of the Saturday night frolic. Bored by the few customers who had arrived so far, he wiped down the bar for the umpteenth time. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the ritualistic hullabaloo would start. He wouldn’t have a chance to pay attention to the water or residue on top of the bar again all night. He wasn’t sure why he was wasting time on it anyway. The rowdy bunch expected tonight could care less if they were eating or drinking from a hog trough.
It didn’t take long for the news of Wilson’s arrest to reach Flood’s Place. At first, most people were astonished that Wilson would be the perpetrator of such a shocking crime as killing three men. But the disbelief was quickly overcome by condemnation of Wilson as a no good son-of-a-bitch and some other choice words.
While the jukebox was blasting out Johnny Cash singing "Folsom Prison Blues." Tee and Big Al were into their sixth or seventh beer of the evening. Rubbing the mole on his nose, Tee pensively commented, "I hope they put that wimpy ass sheriff in prison, where he can sing that song along with Johnny Cash. Wouldn’t that be something?"
To which Big Al replied, "Yea, and I can’t believe that stupid Deputy Caley Givens who was all over the county taking DNA samples to try to pin the murder on someone else. Can you believe it? The law always sticks up for itself don’t they?"
Then Tee shifted his usual race bias to one of gender said, "You damn well got it, and you know Big Al, she is just another frigging woman who doesn't know her ass from second base."
"Yea, but what surprises me, is that that sheriff had the balls to kill someone. He always seemed to me to be a real pimp."
The conversation continued throughout the next couple of days with the opinions split into two groups. Those who were glad to see the murder mystery solved, and others who were glad to see Thad Wilson incarcerated to fully pay for his crime. The ones of the latter opinion included many who had crossed Wilson’s path by being on the wrong side of the law.
For now, though, Thad Wilson was sitting in jail awaiting his trial for the murder of three people. Caley and the new Sheriff Skip Hanford were still busy collecting additional evidence to ensure he would receive the full penalty of the law. The DNA discovered at the scene matching Wilson’s, and his confession would almost certainly ensure his sentencing to a long prison term. However, both had known or read of more substantial cases, where the accused had gotten free.
It was very likely that Wilson’s attorney would do his best to prove temporary insanity in this case. With his almost life-long history of Avant contaminating his mind, a sympatric jury may very well favor him. Caley and Sweet were determined to continue to pursue any evidence that would show premeditation on Wilson’s part.
All of their hard work paid off. Wilson was finally convicted of the murders as charged. He received a sentence of life in prison without parole.
END
…- .-
Epilog
Of course, Wilson’s arrest and conviction weren't the only thing going on in the Lowcountry.
At their place down by the Salk, life was continuing for Red Kasehaugen and Pootsie who were doing extremely well in their new moonshining business. The narrow escape of their operation being discovered earlier by Caley was over for the time being, since she never saw fit to investigate further.
Red and Pootsie knew though, she had been curious about what was going on at their "garage" site, and may very well come back someday. She might have returned already, had investigations into recent murders not taken a different turn.
Neither did they know that she had seen Fish Cleborn coming out of the road to their house, and copied down his license number. As it turned out, it wasn’t important after Wilson’s conviction, and she was never able to connect Red and Pootsie to the case.
Using the equipment, they had salvaged from Homer and Henry’s still site and a few other places, Red and Pootsie were gaining a reputation for making the best liquor in the Lowcountry. Not only that, but they had received a proposal from Fish to provide as much whiskey as they could make.
As with Homer and Henry, the arrangement was returning a handsome profit with little risk. They couldn’t believe how simple and fruitful the method was. It allowed them to almost entirely discontinue selling on a small scale to local residents, who were their highest risk customers anyway.
All they had to do was make the stuff and wait for it to be picked up. They didn’t even have to bottle the product. Using his own pickup Fish picked up several ten-gallon jugs of white lighting every other week. Seeing the old truck pull up to their house someone once asked Red who his new friend was.
His answer was, "Just an old Marine Corp buddy that comes by for a nip of good white lightning."
As for the "old Buddy," he was making money hand over fist, thanks to his arrangement with Red and Pootsie.
* * * * *
All was not well a little further down the road. Topop and Strep still felt they were responsible for the murders by enlisting Fuzz, the purveyor of all things supernatural, to place a hex on the murdered men.
They spent many sleepless nights watching and waiting for the new sheriff to come visiting them. Repeatedly they tried to rationalize what had happened but were unable to get the issue off their minds. Of course, the new sheriff was more interested in a rational motive for the crime. A judge and 12 jurors would be looking for plausible facts, rather than ones based on paranormal beliefs.
Topop lamented, "Well Strep, I know they think Sheriff Wilson killed dem men, but we are still the ones who started the mess, cuz we asked Mr. Fuzz to create the hex."
"Maybe so, but legally we ain’t done nutin wrong, and I am able to sleep pretty good at night."
They talked and talked about what they perceived as their part in the killings. Lony never lets up on this. She was afraid that the next catastrophic event hadn’t happened yet. Strep and Topop, at Lony’s urging, even went to Shelltown and met with Fuzz and Cricket to discuss the situation, now that Thad Wilson had been arrested for the crime.
In place of receiving comfort from Fuzz, he assured them his hex was responsible for the deaths of Homer and Henry, no matter whose hand wielded the final blow. His sense of professional pride in performing an impossible haint would not allow him to believe he had nothing to do with the affair.